Bruises
by LilacSky128
Summary: Blaine turns up at Kurt's door late a night, broken. It's up to Kurt to put him back together, but some bruises take a long time to heal. Oneshot.


Kurt is surprised by the knock on the door; it's late - he's only just completed his moisturising routine and has just come down for a glass of water. He's the only one still up - his dad and Carole having gone up to 'have an early night', something Kurt's been trying hard not to think about, and Finn's in his room. He glances down at himself; he's dressed in pyjama bottoms and a loose grey t-shirt and common decency and fashion sense would normally dictate an avoidance of _anyone_. However, the lateness of the call and the urgency of the knocking gives him pause and he makes his way to the door, peering through the glass.

He makes out an unthreatening looking figure and it takes him a while to recognise it as Blaine. He's not standing like himself, which seems an odd thought to have, but Kurt has become well-versed in Blaine's movements and ways of holding himself; he is generally poised yet relaxed but now he stands hunched over himself, which may be partly to do with the rain that's pounding down.

As soon as he realises that it's Blaine, he works quickly to undo the latch on the door, inwardly panicking slightly.

"Blaine," he breathes as soon as he opens the door, his voice holding a hint of confusion but mainly concern, but then he sees him properly. "Oh, _Blaine," _he says in an entirely different tone of voice.

Blaine stands in the rain, posture entirely defeated, his hair out of its usual helmet of gel and plastered against his cheeks and forehead. He looks at Kurt with lost, lonely eyes which look entirely broken. And, most markedly, Kurt can see a bruise blossoming around his right eye.

Before he knows what he's doing, he steps out into the rain and pulls Blaine into a fierce hug, standing just on the threshold as he feels Blaine bury his head in his shoulder. Kurt's arms wrap around and his hands find his back as Blaine clings just as desperately to him, his hands grasping at Kurt's t-shirt, pressing his shivering body ever closer.

Kurt notices the shivering and can hear Blaine's teeth chattering into his shoulder. He doesn't break the embrace as he guides them both into the warmth of the house. He strokes his hair soothingly even as he uses his foot to shut the door, Blaine turns his head so that Kurt can feel his face press against his neck, and Kurt thinks that the wetness he can feel is not entirely due to rain.

He lets Blaine cry against him, his body letting go one shudder after another until all that is left is silent shaking and then he pulls back.

"Blaine," he repeats, moving to lock the door but keeping his gaze on Blaine the entire time. In the light of the hallway, Blaine looks even worse - his eyes are red-rimmed from crying, his face pale and drawn and the bruise standing out in sharp relief against his skin. "What _happened?"_

Blaine bows his head so Kurt can't see his face and Kurt on impulse reaches out to grab his hand. "Hey," he murmurs. "Stop that. It's just me."

Blaine looks back up at him but seems unable to speak. Kurt laces his fingers more securely with Blaine's and pulls at his hand gently, leading him into the sitting room. Blaine is easily led, malleable almost, as he lets Kurt sit him down on the couch, his eyes staring blankly forward.

Kurt hesitates for a moment before saying, "I'm just going to get you a towel," he says, hovering slightly. He hurries into the kitchen and grabs a tea towel - it's not much but it'll do - before rushing back to Blaine. He hasn't moved and shows no sign of noticing he was gone, but Kurt still feels like shouldn't have left him. He kneels in front of Blaine, his eyes at his level as he offers him the towel. When he doesn't take it, Kurt brings it up to wrap around his head and starts rubbing his hair dry slowly. He leans his head into Blaine's chest as he does so, he doesn't know how he knows but he feels like Blaine needs to know he's there, needs to feel he's there for him.

"It was my dad."

They're the first words Blaine has spoken since he's arrived, and they ring out in the space between them. Kurt remains silent and continues to rub at Blaine's hair, nudging at his chest with his forehead even though he feels sick to his stomach.

"He-" Blaine breaks off, and when Kurt lifts the towel he can see tears streaking down his face. "God, Kurt, it was my dad. He-"

Kurt moves to sit next to him, once more interlocking their hands. Blaine stares down at their linked hands like he's never seen anything like it. Kurt leans in to press a kiss to his cheek as a tear runs down it, capturing it with his lips. He leaves his lips there for a moment, pressing into Blaine's skin as he desperately fights off tears of his own. Because they're selfish tears and he needs to be strong for Blaine's sake no matter how hard it is for him to see Blaine like this.

He draws back but Blaine leans in and captures Kurt's mouth with his own. His kiss is fiery and desperate and intense all at once and Kurt kisses him back just as hard once he's gotten over his surprise, because Blaine needs to know that he's there for him. He tries to tell him that with his kiss, that he loves him, that he's there for him, that he'll always be there for him, that he'll never leave him.

Blaine's hands wrap round Kurt's hips and Kurt leans backwards on to the couch as Blaine moves over him. "Kurt," Blaine says as their mouths part for a moment. "I need-"

He doesn't need to finish his sentence; Kurt's already kissing him. Kurt twists his head to get a better angle and his tongue ghosts over Blaine's bottom lip, and Blaine responds by plunging his own tongue into Kurt's mouth.

Kurt leans back into the cushions, allowing Blaine to take control of the situation. He feels Blaine's grip tighten on him and he pulls himself up against him so that every available surface of skin is touching. He just wants the lost looks in Blaine's eyes to go away; he knows he can't let it go too far because Blaine's upset, he can still taste the salt of his tears, but Blaine needs to know he's not going anywhere.

Blaine's hands slide up his sides and then back again, reaching the gap between his t-shirt and his waistband. Kurt gasps slightly as Blaine's fingers press against his skin there and pull him closer - he hadn't even known they could _get _any closer. Blaine's hands move up his back, eagerly pressing against him, as thought trying to mould Kurt's body to his own. His finger's move back down, and he presses his palms against Kurt's hip bones briefly, before his fingers move to the waistband of Kurt's trousers. He starts to pull them down and Kurt _knows _this is wrong and it shouldn't be happening like this but he's having a really hard time remembering _why _that is when Blaine's mouth is on his and he's still kissing him, hard and fierce, when Blaine's fingers had reached his thigh and are grasping at every available bit of flesh of Kurt's they can find. He lets out a moan and his eyes fly open at the sensation and he sees that heartbreaking desperation in Blaine's eyes again. He doesn't just want to be the oblivion Blaine sinks into and it occurs to him that this probably isn't the healthiest way to be dealing with this.

"Blaine," he breathes, pulling his mouth away. Blaine's hand immediately stills. "Blaine," he says, firmer this time, moving to grip his wrist. "Stop."

Blaine withdraws his hand and looks at Kurt like he's just realised what he was doing. His eyes show something, and Kurt's almost relieved, even though it's shock and horror, because it looks _alive._

"Oh god," Blaine murmurs, and Kurt hasn't had too much time to realise what exactly Blaine is shocked at, but then Blaine seems to collapse on him, shaking with sobs again. "God, Kurt, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so-"

"Shh," Kurt says, bringing a hand up to Blaine's head and clutching at his hair, entangling his fingers in it. "Shh, it's all right."

He holds him there, muttering reassurances and comforting noises as Blaine keeps up a steady stream of apologies.

Blaine draws back after a while, and looks into Kurt's eyes. And Kurt would laugh if it were under different circumstances, because his boyfriend has been hit by his father and has come to him lost and broken and of course, _of course, _Blaine actually looks concerned for him now.

Kurt leans upwards and place a brief, chaste kiss on Blaine's mouth and then falls back, looking up at Blaine questioningly, silently asking: what now.

Blaine is still stuck on apologising though. "Kurt I am so sorry. I should never have-"

"It's fine."

"But I-"

"It's fine."

"I-"

"_Blaine_," Kurt says reaching up to stroke his face. "It's OK. You needed someone and, besides, I wasn't exactly protesting." When Blaine looks poised to apologise again, Kurt adds, "And you stopped when I asked you to."

Kurt can see Blaine fighting against saying something then, probably surmising that it will fall on deaf ears - he's correct. Blaine sits back up and moves a hand to his face as though remembering why he's here. Kurt senses that he doesn't want to talk yet and he feels somehow conspicuous on the couch, so he offers Blaine his hand again and gestures up the stairs. He presses a finger to his lips as they go up to his room. The whole house feels like it's sleeping, but Kurt doesn't want to run the risk of disturbing anyone. He doesn't really think too hard about what he's doing or the fact that his dad would kill him if he saw him leading Blaine into his room. He figures he can deal with that when it comes up, besides Blaine's most important.

He sits down on his bed and gestures for Blaine to do the same; it doesn't escape his notice that Blaine hesitates before he does so, and perches delicately on the edge when he does sit down. It suddenly hits Kurt how young they both are, and how at the end of the day they're just two teenagers sitting on a bed together trying to handle something way too big for them. He shakes off these thoughts because Blaine needs him and he shuffles closer to Blaine, resting his forehead against his.

The sit in silence like the for while, and Blaine turns so his body is angled towards Kurt's. Kurt doesn't quite trust himself to hug Blaine yet without acting like the hormone-crazed teenager he is, so he keeps a distance between them, just pressing his forehead and palm against Blaine's own. Blaine for his part seems to be making a concerted effort not to be too close to Kurt, although he grips his hand likes it's a lifeline. Blaine's eyes are closed as only a few tears eke out of the closed lashes, and Kurt brings a hand up to the bruise. His fingers brush against it - the barest of touches - and Blaine flinches slightly but doesn't pull away as Kurt skates his fingers over it.

He's pretty sure he should do something more about it, but he can't for the life of him think what. And right now he's still fighting against confusion over what exactly happened and anger that _anyone _could do this to Blaine. Blaine is… he doesn't deserve this, of course, no-one does but especially not Blaine. Also - in a weird, possessive, protective way that Kurt doesn't want to dwell on too much - he feels Blaine is _his _and he inwardly shudders at the thought of anyone laying a harmful hand on him.

"Ice!" he blurts out suddenly and Blaine's eyes fly open and look at him, puzzled. "Ice," he repeats, and curses his current inability to speak in coherent sentences. He gives it a go. "I should get you ice. For the bruise. It could swell." Well, Kurt muses in an odd detached sort of way, that wasn't exactly coherent and in the grammatical sense they probably weren't sentences either but close enough.

Kurt pulls back from Blaine and makes to get up, but Blaine grabs at his wrist.

"No," Blaine says, a little faintly. "No, I'm fine. Just… stay. Please."

Kurt's gaze softens as he looks into Blaine's imploring eyes. He knows that health wise it would probably be a good idea to ignore Blaine's request, but he can't refuse him. Not now.

"OK," he murmurs, sitting back down on the other side of Blaine now. He looks at Blaine expectantly as Blaine's grasp on his wrist loosens and moves down to hold Kurt's hand. He takes a deep breath and seems on the verge of saying something.

"It's OK," Kurt says soothingly, rubbing his thumb in comforting patterns across Blaine's hand. "It's just me. What happened?"

Kurt knows about Blaine's strained relationship with his parents, and with his father in particular, but he never dreamed it would come to this.

Blaine takes a deep, shuddering breath inwards, and then says: "I told him about you."

Kurt stiffens and Blaine feels it and his head shoots up.

"No. No, not- it's not really anything to do with you, it's just-"

Kurt shakes himself of any guilt - he can revisit that later - and resumes rubbing Blaine's hand. "It's OK. Carry on."

"Right." Blaine takes another breath. "I've started this all wrong but-" he hesitates. "Yes. I told him I had a boyfriend and he just… just looked at me like he didn't know who I was. And then he said," Blaine's lip curls but Kurt recognises it as a concerted effort not to cry. "He said: _If you've got a friend that's great, but don't let anyone tell you it's something it's not." _Blaine looks at Kurt plaintively. "What does that even _mean?" _Kurt shakes his head; he doesn't know, and grips Blaine's hand tighter. "So I told him that you were my _boyfriend. _That we were in love and committed to one another and there were a million other ways I could say it but in the end it all boiled down to the same thing: that I have a boyfriend. Because I'm gay."

Blaine takes a deep breath, and Kurt has a feeling he's just recited what he had said to his father pretty much word for word and it hurts, because the memory is still burning him - even now.

"He just- he just shook his head at me and said that I'd come to my senses sooner or later and he just- he still wasn't _listening. _And I told him that. And then I said," Blaine lets out a bitter laugh. "I said that if he didn't believe me, then he could meet you, and see for himself how amazing you are and why I was in love with you," Blaine doesn't miss Kurt's intake of breath but simply squeezes his hand and ploughs on with his story. "He tried to walk out and I kind of-" Blaine looks down like he's embarrassed and Kurt feels like a fist is clenching around his heart. "I got in his face about it. I don't remember half the things I said. I was talking about you, but then about me as well. And everything that had happened to me at school and why did he think that was?" Blaine sighs like all the fight has left him and then says, "I was just trying to get him to acknowledge it. Acknowledge me. But then, I was yelling at him and he was trying to leave the room and that's when he-" Blaine breaks off, gesturing towards his bruise, as he lets out a dry sob. And only then does Kurt allow himself to pull Blaine close.

He rests his head on Blaine's shoulder and says fiercely, "It wasn't your fault Blaine."

Blaine's arms come up around him and they stay like that for a while, just warmth and love. And then:

"Uh."

Kurt turns to see Finn standing at the door. Blaine pulls away from him and turns his head away but not quickly enough; Kurt can tell Finn's seen the bruise from his widening eyes.

"Dude," he says, making to step into the room. "What-?"

"Finn," Kurt says, in a soft but firm voice. He can see that Blaine's embarrassed, knows how hard this must be for him. Blaine puts such an effort _everyday _in appearing put together; he doesn't normally let anyone see him this vulnerable except for Kurt. So Kurt knows he has to get rid of Finn, whom he loves but God, if the boy is about as subtle as a bulldozer and as tactful as Rachel Berry at times. "Get some ice."

"But what-?"

"Finn." Kurt says, louder this time. "Make yourself useful. Ice. Now."

"Er, right. Oh!" Finn turns back at the last moment and Kurt has to use all of his self control to refrain from screaming at him. "Should I tell…?"

He trails off and Kurt sighs. He knows that Finn is going to tell his dad anyway, so he gives a slight nod and hears the hurried thudding of Finn's footsteps.

"Kurt…"

"It's OK." Kurt says. "I'll talk to my dad. You can stay here tonight."

Blaine shakes his head. "I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry."

Kurt is horrified. "_Of course _you should have come here, Blaine. You can't stay at your house and you certainly can't be on your own. Hey," Kurt puts a finger under Blaine's chin and lifts it upwards. "I love you. And for you," Kurt pauses slightly over-dramatically. "I will try and explain to my dad why it is a simply fabulous idea to let my boyfriend stay over tonight."

Blaine lets out a snort, tempered by tears. "I greatly appreciate your sacrifice," he says, sounding something like approaching Blaine again.

"You should," Kurt says, placing a light kiss on Blaine's nose.

"Kurt?"

Kurt sighs and turns to find his dad standing in the doorway now, clearly having just gotten out of bed. Burt's mouth drops open when he sees Blaine; Kurt gives Blaine's hand a squeeze, silently communicating to him that he'll be back in a minute and hops up off the bed. He walks to the door and pushes his dad gently backwards. "Outside," he mutters, as he closes the door behind him.

His dad waits until the door is fully closed before hissing, "Kiddo, what the hell is going on here? All I've got is Finn babbling on about how Blaine's in your room and he's got to get ice," Burt sighs. "What happened to him? How'd he get all…?" Burt gestures around his eye.

"It was his dad."

At that Burt does a double take, his eyes widen and Kurt watches as first shock, then anger pass over his father's face.

"He's not exactly accepting of Blaine being gay, and they got into an argument - which led to him hitting Blaine," Kurt can barely keep the anger out of his own voice so he's not entirely surprised about his father.

"His-" Burt swallows. "His dad did that to him?"

Kurt nods and Burt shakes his head. "I don't get-" he cuts himself off even though he appears to be speaking to himself. "How's he doing?"

"He's doing-" Kurt hesitates. "I don't know. Look," Kurt pauses. "Can he stay here tonight?"

"Of course he can, Kurt."

"In my room?" Kurt says, before he can back out of it. At his father's hesitation he says, "Please dad, he needs me. And it's not like we'll do anything." Kurt is aware that this is a partial lie, but he fully intends to keep his hands off Blaine until he's less upset. That is what he fully intends at this particular second anyway.

Burt pauses for a second before nodding. "He sleeps on a mattress, though."

Kurt rolls his eyes but nods.

"Can I talk to him?" Burt asks, and Kurt's slightly surprised at the request. Blaine and Burt have grown closer over the time he's been dating Kurt - after they got over that unfortunate incident in which his dad may or may not have threatened Blaine with a long and painful death if he ever hurt his son - but he's also surprised that his dad defers to him.

He shakes his head. "In the morning. He-" Kurt runs a hand through his hair, a sure sign that he's upset. "Just. In the morning. Please dad."

Burt nods, either seeing the sense, or seeing the futility of argument.

"And dad?"

"Yep?"

"Thank you." Kurt's words reach far beyond simple gratitude for letting Blaine stay and Burt knows it. He turns to Kurt and says impassionedly:

"Don't _ever _thank me for not hurting you, Kurt. It should be a goddamn given and-"

"I know," Kurt says, holding up a hand. He's suddenly exhausted and isn't quite sure how to communicate what he's saying. "Just: Thanks."

Burt sighs and turns around. "We'll talk about this in the morning."

Kurt nods and turns to go back into his room; he's stopped by an awkward throat clearing, which he correctly guesses is produced by Finn.

"Ice," says Finn, thrusting the pack forward. He looks oddly vulnerable, standing on the landing in socked feet, offering the what he's collected a little nervously.

Kurt smiles softly. "Thank you Finn," he says and then stems Finn's inevitable questions with: "We'll talk in the morning."

He shuts the door before he can say anything else. He finds Blaine lying back on the bed where he left him. He smiles briefly, before saying, "Right, Anderson. Up against the headboard. Now." Blaine glances up and something approaching a smile creeps across his face as he see the ice pack Kurt's holding.

"I want," he says, shuffling back to lean against the headboard. "You to replay that sentence back to yourself."

"Shut up," says Kurt, blushing a little as he goes to the bed. He manages to get in a position where he's straddling Blaine as he kneels over him to press the ice pack to his bruise. Blaine lets out a sigh as he leans his head back on to the headboard.

"I am glad," Blaine murmurs softly. "That you've remembered that my surname is not Warbler."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Warbler is a cute surname. And if you want people to stop calling you it, maybe you can start with Wes."

"Wes calls everyone it, plus he uses it as a preface to our name, not our surname."

"I'm modernizing it. And you're just scared he'll throw his gavel at you."

"He would though."

"True."

There's a pause for a moment before Kurt lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "I'm so sorry this happened to you Blaine." It's not quite what he wants to say. He wants to say that he's sorry he wasn't there to stop it, wants to say that he's sorry that this stuff is even in the world to happen to him, but he says this sincerely and with such sorrow that Blaine's eyes snap open.

"Not your fault," he murmurs.

"I know," Kurt says. He lifts the ice pack away from his face and replaces it with his lips, ignoring Blaine's mewl of surprise. He traces the bruise, peppering kisses along the outline before moving to his jaw. He pulls back and is surprised when Blaine lets out something of a moan.

"You know," Blaine says, smiling faintly. "That helped a lot more than the ice."

Kurt smiles and puts the ice back on. "Somehow I think doctors would disagree with you."

"Screw doctors," Blaine growls in a way Kurt does not want to admit he finds attractive and oddly seductive.

"Never tried it," he says lightly, and Blaine laughs. Kurt decides he wants to keep making Blaine laugh; he doesn't look so broken anymore.

"Are you boys going to bed now?"

Kurt swings off Blaine and nods to his dad who has clearly come to make sure Kurt honours his agreement about the mattress. Kurt leaps off the bed and pulls it out from under his bed pointedly before raising his eyebrows at his dad. Burt's eyes are fixed on Blaine though and when Kurt looks back he sees that Blaine still isn't meeting his eyes. His dad seems on the verge of saying something before he sighs and walks over. Kurt watches as his dad reaches out a hand and ruffles Blaine's hair in a way that used to annoy the hell out of Kurt.

"In the morning," Burt says. "I'm making pancakes."

Kurt smiles as Blaine finally looks up to meet his dad's eyes. "Thank you sir," he says faintly.

"Burt," his dad corrects and turns to walk out, briefly resting a hand on Kurt's shoulder as he does so.

Kurt smiles a little sadly at Blaine's slightly dumbstruck expression and he gets what his dad's been saying because that kind of acceptance _should _be a given for Blaine. He pulls a cover out over the mattress and steals a pillow from his own bed. Blaine makes a move to get out of his bed but Kurt shakes a finger at him.

"You take the bed. I'll sleep here."

"Kurt, I couldn't-"

"No arguments, Warbler."

"And we're back to that."

"Yes, we are. Now: don't disagree with me."

Blaine collapses back on the bed, either too tired to argue or conceding the fact it would be pointless. "It doesn't seem very gentlemanly."

"Maybe I'm being the gentleman," Kurt says smoothing the pillow case out.

"You're just being bossy," Blaine counters.

Kurt grins. "You love it."

"Lies," Blaine mutters half-heartedly.

"You should probably change first," Kurt says, crossing to his dresser and pulling out a clean pair of pyjamas. He tosses them to Blaine and waits as he awkwardly goes into the bathroom to change. When Blaine comes out he smiles slightly, not wanting to admit the slight thrill it gives him to see Blaine wearing his clothes. Kurt points to the bed. "Now," he say sternly. "Sleep."

* * *

><p>Blaine doesn't sleep.<p>

He can't. Every time he moves his head he is reminded that he has a bruise there and, yes, that is because his own father hit him, because he couldn't handle who he was, didn't like who he was, _hated _who he was.

So his eyes stay open, rooted to the ceiling. He can hear Kurt's even breathing next to him and, in an effort to concentrate on happier things, he thinks about the fact that he is in Kurt's bed and that Kurt slept here, and that all around him, all he can smell is _Kurt._

This doesn't really help him sleep either.

He rolls over to the edge of the bed and tilts his head so he can look down at Kurt. He catches his breath. Kurt is beautiful of course, he's always been beautiful (it was actually the first thing he remembers thinking about him upon meeting, that and the rather foolish thought about angels, but in his defence, Kurt was standing above him at the time) but Blaine finds him even more beautiful in sleep. He thinks it might be something to do with the fact that in sleep all Kurt's defences are stripped down. Kurt walks around with some kind of protective bubble around him, stopping anyone from getting too close, he fends people off with barbs and witticisms and the best bitch face Blaine has ever seen anyone pull, and Blaine is aware that he is allowed to see more of Kurt than anyone else. He treasures that, in fact, but in sleep, Kurt looks vulnerable and beautiful and innocent and Blaine can just _look. _(He wonders vaguely if that makes him a little bit creepy, but decides he doesn't care.)

Kurt is also the only thing that's keeping him going right now.

Blaine has suffered the same doubts that a lot of people have about their sexuality, he's wondered if he's _wrong _somehow, or that this might not be the way for him. He's sometimes even wished that he were straight, because he has considered - has had to consider - the fact that it might be easier all round.

But then: Kurt.

And how he feels about Kurt; Kurt is unashamed of who he is and proud and _brave. _And if there is one thing Blaine is sure of it's that Kurt deserves someone who can love him as well as he deserves; Blaine loves him as he's never loved anyone and if it makes Kurt happy, then Blaine _knows _that there can't be anything wrong with his feelings.

So Blaine knows there's nothing wrong with him, it's just hard when other people don't see it.

"Are you watching me sleep?"

Blaine is shocked out of his reverie, by Kurt's faint voice.

"Technically," Blaine says. "You're now awake."

"You and your semantics," Kurt mutters, his eyes fluttering open. (Blaine takes a brief moment to marvel at his eyelashes, but not too long because that would be weird. Also his eyes are pretty amazing too.) "What's up?"

"Can't sleep," Blaine shrugs.

Kurt sits up and regards him for a second before getting up and sitting on the bed. "Shift," he says, pointing at him. Blaine is momentarily bemused before he realises what Kurt is suggesting (well, more ordering, really, but again with the semantics). "I mean," says Kurt, whose tone has gone decidedly less bossy. He's fingering the corner of the bedspread but glances up through his lashes from the embroidery as he says, "Can I?"

Blaine is already moving even as he mutters a half-hearted protest of: "Your dad…"

"Asleep, I'm sure," Kurt says dismissively, drawing the covers back and climbing into bed beside him.

Blaine isn't sure, but he's wholly distracted by Kurt's body in such close proximity. He's also reminded with an overwhelming guilt and embarrassment of his awkward fumblings earlier as he had tried to lose himself in Kurt.

Kurt seems to sense his hesitance as he says, "You can touch me, you know." It's one of the things that is simultaneously one of the most frustrating and most loveable things about Kurt: his easy forgiveness of people. Blaine knows that he will never hold him accountable for his actions earlier even though he really should.

"I am sorry," Blaine says, even so. "I never meant to push you, or-"

"Blaine." Kurt will also never let him finish a sentence about it apparently. "You didn't do anything wrong. You needed someone and I was there for you, OK, Blaine? And I always will be."

"Kurt," Blaine rests a tentative hand on his hip, barely masking a sharp intake of breath as he brushes bare skin. "It wasn't just someone I needed, you understand that, don't you? I mean, I should never have- but I wasn't just using you or-"

"Shh, shh," Kurt brings a hand up to brush through Blaine's hair in a soothing gesture which makes Blaine feel about eight years old in a really good way. It feels safe, like he's comforted and he thinks - for a moment - that maybe it's OK, because maybe Kurt's all he needs. "I just didn't want it to happen like that."

"I know and I should never have-"

"But it's OK. I understand and I love you." Kurt tilts his head and Blaine gives argument up as a lost cause. He brushes his finger over Kurt's hipbone in a regular motion. He's tired and he thinks that Kurt's skin feels very soft. He leans forward to press a kiss to his collarbone, his lips brushing over it in the barest of gestures. Kurt's lips find his forehead and rest there as he leans his head against Kurt's chest. Kurt shifts so they're pressed up against each other and his arms come around Blaine's stomach. Blaine drops his hand so it rests on the small of Kurt's back and they both understand that this is not a prelude to sex, just happy to hold each other.

Blaine lets out a contented breath and thanks any God that might be up there for giving him Kurt. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmurs into Kurt's neck.

Kurt stiffens slightly in response to the buzz Blaine's words create across his skin. He relaxes and lets out a breath; he kisses Blaine's temple. "You won't have to find out," he says. "Now: sleep."

And there, encased in Kurt's arms, ensconced in love, Blaine sleeps.

* * *

><p>And if Burt pokes his head round the door later to find them curled around each other, well, he figures they need their sleep; then he closes the door softly and lets them be - together.<p>

* * *

><p><em>AN: Angst, angst, angst. With fluff. A bit. Anyway, this is my first story focused on Klaine, which is surprising given how much I love them. I may write a sequel of sorts to this, focussing on the morning after and what happens next; it'll be posted separately if I get round to it though. Anyway, please review; thanks for reading!<em>


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